It is nice again!

Already at the beginning of this summer I should have had help to clean my apartment.

"At my return from Las Vegas" I told myself.

Then the usual south American young woman disappeared, no one called back.

Then, my cataract operation and at the same time my family moved farther and left here new things I should have put... somewhere.

The somewhere was never the "good" place.

"For the moment" I told myself, "then..."

There were waiting "somewhere" to be found and I the right to bend down.

When I knew a woman was to come to clean finally, I did take the boxes one by one from the floor and without actually bending more then a second to pick it up; putting the pile of papers on my bed, I begun to sort out where is their place.

Most, directly in the garbage pile.

When the woman went away, after three hours, of work or make believe work, she left the place cleaner, she also left me with the kitchen unfinished. I finally had to wash my cooking pans she did not touch. And even scrub the cups she left not quiet clean.

Flash news: I could do it!

So, now the place looks better, and even more, I have more courage.